那晚,大風.
風的呼嘯中,隱隱約約有個別樣的聲音.撲捉到了,是風鈴.
不疾不徐,簡潔單純,沉靜悠揚.我竟再聽不見風的呼嘯,隻有風鈴的歌唱.
原來音樂也不一定要人的創作,大自然自會以它的方式給我們.
但有些歌一定是從人心裏流出的.
比如這支.久久地聽許多遍.有種洗去鉛華的美,有種憂而不傷的美,有種時光淡淡遠去,卻韶華不老的美,還有種回歸故鄉,重溫純真的美.
其實,每個人無論走了多遠,走了多久,心底深處都會有雙明亮的眼睛
Is it a kind of dream?
floating out on the tide
Following the river of death downstream
Oh, is it a dream?
There's a fog along the horizon
A strange glow in the sky
And nobody seems to know where you go
And what does it mean?
Oh, oh, is it a dream?
Is it a kind of shadow,
reaching into the night
Wandering over the hills unseen
Or is it a dream?
There's a high wind in the trees
A cold sound in the air
And nobody seems to know where you go
And where do you start
Oh, oh, into the dark
Bright eyes, burning like fire
Bright eyes, how can they close and fail?
How can the light that burnt so brightly
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